Nacho Cheese Doritos


"Food is the most overused anti-anxiety drug in America" - Bill Philips

I guess Mr. Bill thinks he knows a thing or two about food addiction, huh?  What he says is true, and I promise this quote will not inspire anyone to change.  At least not the mind of a food junkie.

I used to sit in my living room and eat nacho cheese flavored Doritos after bringing my Mother to Butler Memorial Hospital for the umpteenth time. I remember how alone I felt.

I would get home after the drive - of course this was after being pulled out of algebra class (or whatever the class du jour was) by our principal telling me that I had a telephone call waiting for me in the office. He would stare at me with sad eyes and say in a sympathetic tone "it's your Mom." I would walk down the MHS corridor taking deep breaths knowing that although there was a plethora of scenario's that could unfold during this call - one thing was for certain - my mother was very sick and I needed to bring her to the hospital - again.

First I would go home and pack a bag for her. Getting her in the car was usually a cinch because when the hospital became necessary, it meant she had dropped from her manic high and hallucinations to the bowls of deep depression and hallucinations. She was like a child at this point, so leading her to the seat and buckling her in was easy. The drive was always interesting. She was usually not speaking to me because she thought I was my father coming back to life to hurt or even kill her. I look like my Dad so in a psychotic state I can see how this might happen. She would vacillate between staring at me and huddling in the corner turning away from me in fright. I knew what was happening, so I didn't pay much mind to it. My goal was to make sure her door was locked, keep her safe and get her to a place where the white coats could balance her chemistry with mind numbing pills and "care" for her. Up the elevator - into the psych ward - signed the intake papers and vouila! Mission accomplished. Our mother is gone - again - estimated leave; approximately 2 weeks to a month. It's funny to me how nobody ever questioned why a 16 year old was continually checking her mother into a psych ward - and not in the "ha ha" kind of way.

I arrive at 157 Central Street, finally, home sweet home. I have a few hours before my brother and sister get home. A time of respite for me before I have to tell them that I - once again - will be there mother for the next 2 to 4 weeks. I don't know how we kept it all straight - mother for 2-4 weeks, sister for 2-6 months, repeat as necessary. Three hours of vacation time before the end of school - bell rings and they come trampling in wanting snacks, needing food, desperate for attention, love and care and a real mother - although they would never admit it. I cut my rest short and go to Fernandes to shop for the dinner I will be cooking for all of us. Chicken, pasta, broccoli - and there they are. I hear a choir of angels sing the Alleluia Chorus in perfect pitch, I see reds and yellows and letters in black, my heart races, and the chemicals start to shift in my brain, I finally see the first bit of relief that I have had in a week's time... NACHO CHEESE FLAVORED DORITOS. I plot my escape. After all it's been an exhausting seven days. Watching her fly like an eagle on a high that I can only dream about and then waiting and watching while she goes through her undoing - she is God, Jesus, thinks she has the cure for aids, now she can fly ... waiting... watching... counting her meds.... making sure she doesn't hurt herself... and then finally - THE DROP - the depression that never fails to follow the manic.

I get home, put away the groceries, clean up the house, make sure it resembles a warm home for my siblings and I still have 45 minutes to myself!! I sit in the flowered oversized chair, pick up the remote control, its The Brady Bunch, PERFECT!! I lovingly unscrew the bottle to my Yahoo, rip open my faux cheese friends and ... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Now I can do it!  Now I have what it takes to raise this family!  I don't feel so alone anymore. I hide them for later. When he and she are finally sleeping safely, lunches are made and dishes are washed - my love affair will continue.

I ate Nacho Cheese Flavored Doritos smack dab right into obesity. But you know what? They never let me down - I always had something to look forward to.

I don't condone junk food or obesity. And I don't judge it either. One step at a time, we are all learning, each of us laden with our own personal struggles.  We are all desperate to know that separation and loss is not true. We cross our fingers and hope that our vision really is limited on this trip. That just maybe there is something more that awaits us when the body drops, possibly an even greater story will be thought.  I continue to learn to see beauty in all people. In all body shapes and sizes. There is just no way for me to know what your path of unfolding is. 

"Don't judge a person until you've walked a mile in their shoes. And you never know what someone's starting point is."

xoxoxoxo Steph






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